


No Bones About It

by SesuRescue



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Accidents, Amputation, Blood and Gore, Dark Comedy, Gen, Illustrations in fic, Inspired by Max Barry's Machine Man, Pre-Canon, Self-Harm, Self-Mutaliation, Undertale Papyrus-Focused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SesuRescue/pseuds/SesuRescue
Summary: Papyrus awakens to familiar voices. His vision comes into focus, only to blur again as bright, fluorescent light blinds him. He groans, signaling Alphys to scurry over.“Papyrus! Oh my gosh, th-thank goodness you’re okay!"Papyrus doesn’t feel okay. He has a splitting headache and his jaw aches something terrible.Wait, something happened to him. Something bad. What was it…After a sparring accident, Papyrus debates the benefits of machine limbs to disastrous results.Written forLattices & Cracks, a Free Digital Undertail Gore Zine
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	No Bones About It

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic was written for the Lattices & Cracks zine because man, the only thing I love more than Dark Comedy is a Papyrus-fic. 
> 
> A hella big thank you to [Docajing](https://twitter.com/docanjing?s=20) and [Ganzooky](https://twitter.com/ganzooky?s=20), my Illustrator collab partners, for helping out with plot points and making this fic look so good with their illustrations. Their art is really amazing, like seriously amazing, make sure to check them out! Also the biggest, beefiest thanks to   
> [ Undertailsoilsex ](https://twitter.com/soulscum) for their extensive betaing to not only get this fic to the correct length, but also make sure it was actually cohesive enough to read Hahaha you're the best soul <33333
> 
> Last but not least, this work utilizes a work skin for image sizing so please make sure you are showing the creator's style when you are reading this work!  
> Also, make sure to check out the zine! It's really good! There's a lot of good fic and art, I promise you won't be disappointed.

  
_Art by Docajing and Ganzooky_

“You ready, punk?!” Undyne asks, thrusting a spear upwards.

Papyrus salutes happily, using his magic to float his cape. He’s powerful, popular, and prestigious, and today is the day he’s going to be the newest member of the Royal Guard. He can feel it in his bones. All he has to do is beat Undyne in a practice fight.

“Nyeh heh heh!”

Undyne immediately goes on the offensive. She advances, propelling her weapon forward. It’s no match for Papyrus who gracefully dodges and summons a wave of bone attacks. Undyne charges again, stomping the bones as if they’re weeds, and bellows. They settle into a familiar rhythm. Dodge, duck, dodge, duck, pose heroically, rinse, and repeat.

Jumping out of melee range, Undyne yells in frustration, “Stop dodging and face me head-on!”

Papyrus hears a _ping!_ , and his boots lock in place as a spear falls into his hands. He can’t move, and usually that would alarm him, but today is different. Imbued with a new fighting spirit, he grips the weapon and prepares for her bullets. Her pattern never changes, Papyrus is confident in this. His body sways reflexively as he recalls the order of her attacks. Forward, forward, forward.

“You think you’re so cool, huh, Papyrus? Let’s see if you can handle this!”

Another wave of bullets. Forward, forward, left, left, right, right. Papyrus blocks them easily, much to her ire. She doesn’t wait for him to reorient himself but immediately starts her next wave. Papyrus grunts as the first bullet hits his leg, shaving off a sliver of his health, and he barely blocks the next one, relying on muscle memory since he’s lost track of where he is in the pattern. Left, right, forward, behind.

Suddenly, his body lurches forward from momentum, and the spear disappears as he falls to one knee. Undyne has lifted her magic. She’s hollering from somewhere behind, and the mud squelches as she runs towards him.

Papyrus doesn’t have many options; she’s too fast for him to counter with a bone, and he doesn’t have time to prepare his special attack. Oh, blue magic! That could work! Papyrus rises to his feet and turns, extending his arm to turn Undyne’s soul blue, when he realizes he’s made a huge error. While he was thinking up a counter-attack, he forgot to pay attention to the fight! Undyne is no longer in front of him, but in the air, her spear aimed downwards.

Everything happens quickly. Too quickly. Undyne yelps as gravity yanks her blue soul, and suddenly he is on the ground. Stars swim in his vision as he stumbles to his feet, skull still ringing from the impact. His shoulder hurts for some reason, but he isn’t sure why. Undyne didn’t crash into him that hard, did she?

Underneath the thrumming of his skull, Papyrus hears Undyne yelling. He brings his hand to his head and massages his temples, but something’s wrong. It hurts, it hurts; why does it hurt? He blinks. For some reason, his hand isn’t where it’s supposed to be. It’s gone. In fact, his entire arm is gone, aside from the fractured remains of his humerus. Marrow leaks heavily from the wound. There’s a lot, more than Papyrus has ever seen in his life. He sways, swinging his useless arm to steady himself, and while he’s doing that, a strange sight catches his gaze.

White chunks of _something_ lay scattered around him. Curious. He turns over one of the pieces with his good hand, trying to figure out what it is. As he brings it closer, he gasps. What he’s holding is, in fact, one of his own phalanges. The realization hits him full force, bringing with it a fresh wave of pain.

Papyrus passes out.

* * *

_“...And it just exploded into pieces! It was kind of awesome--”_

_“U-undyne!”_

Papyrus awakens to familiar voices. His vision comes into focus, only to blur again as bright, fluorescent light blinds him. He groans, signaling Alphys to scurry over.

“Papyrus! Oh my gosh, th-thank goodness you’re okay!”

Papyrus doesn’t feel okay. He has a splitting headache and his jaw aches something terrible. Has he been clenching it? Sans will never let him hear the end of it if he’s fallen back into his babybones habits. Speaking of childish tendencies, he can't believe he had fallen asleep, especially in Alphys's lab.

Wait, something happened to him. Something bad. What was it…

“My arm!” Papyrus gasps. He struggles to lift his arm so he can see the damage, but to his dismay, it doesn’t budge. “What happened to my arm?!”

“P-papyrus, you’ll hurt yourself!” Alphys flails her arms, as if coaxing him to calm down. But how can he calm down after remembering the sight? The bone shards, the marrow! Gosh, there was so much marrow…

“Oi, punk, cut it out,” Undyne’s stern voice cuts across his thoughts, and he exhales as she shoves his head back down. “Listen to Alphys, okay?”

Papyrus nods mutely.

“Th-there was an accident during your, erm, fighting session? Er, Undyne’s spear c-completely shattered your right humerus. The damage was so bad I, erm, had to remove the rest of your arm.”

“I honestly didn’t know you could break like that Papyrus, I’m so sorry,” Undyne says.

Papyrus hears but doesn’t comprehend. “My… arm? You broke my arm?”

Undyne perks up slightly. “Completely decimated it, really. There were so many pieces--oof, I mean, sorry again,” Undyne rubs her arm where Alphys punched it.

Papyrus remembers what his humerus looked like, the haggard remains of the bone stained deep red with marrow. Yes, it makes sense that Alphys couldn’t salvage it; that would’ve been the worst 3d puzzle to finish in the history of the Underground. Still, his soul fills with dread. He’s lost a part of his body. How can he recover? Even if he adjusted to using one arm, how could he be in the Royal Guard?

“Oh, P-papyrus, don’t cry!” Alphys says, awkwardly scraping the top of his skull with her claws. “You haven’t heard the good news yet!”

She pulls a sheet up from Papyrus’s right, and through blurry eyelights he sees…

“What is this.”

“Ta-da!” Alphys spreads her arms wide. “It’s your new arm! Here, let me, uh, just get this…” She unlatches a strap, and Papyrus finds that he can finally move freely. “I had some, um, spare parts lying around from working on Mettaton, and I figured it would be a good f-fit for you…”

Alphys prattles on about the science of it and how she’s synced magic to metal, but Papyrus focuses instead on this new arm of his. Rather than the pearly white he’s accustomed to, a long, chrome cylinder greets him. At the end is a white glove, engineered to look exactly like the celebrity Mettaton’s hands. He wonders if he can raise his arm, so he tries. It moves more fluidly than his own, curving oddly at the middle to simulate joints, and when he stretches the fingers, they feel odd...

He feels sick; this isn’t him at all.

Nevertheless, he thanks Alphys for all her hard work; it’s not her fault. Still, he needs a moment to despair in private, so although he agrees to stay and rest, the moment the other two leave, Papyrus quietly escapes by bursting through the nearest window. Then he stealthily trudges through Hotland and Waterfall, using his cape to cover the monstrosity that is his new arm.

When he opens the door to his home, he’s not surprised to see Sans on the couch, reading a joke book. Or a Quantum Physics book. It’s a toss-up at this point.

“hey bro,” Sans calls, gaze immediately landing on the cape-covered arm.

Papyrus ignores the stare in favor of removing his boots, lining them up neatly near the door, then stalking to the kitchen for some milk. While he’s looking through the cabinet for a glass, he hears Sans shuffle off the couch and follow him. Papyrus sighs heavily though is otherwise quiet as he pours his drink.

Just when the silence is right on the cusp of uncomfortable, Sans breaks it. “so.”

“So.”

“heard about your arm. alphys called.”

“Ah.”

Sans shifts in his slippers, tucks his hands into his hoodie. “so.”

“So.”

“how’re ya holding up? must’ve been pretty traumatic.”

Papyrus wills away the grotesque images that threaten to bubble up.

“I don’t remember most of it; I passed out. At least I’m ambidextrous! I didn’t have a favorite arm to lose.”

Sans finally looks at Papyrus. “heh, guess you can say it was the _right_ arm, huh?”

By all accounts, it’s a bad joke. Papyrus knows it, Sans knows it, the clerk at the general store knows it. But Papyrus wouldn’t be the straight man in this comedy duo if he didn’t react properly to it, so he feigns anger and screeches.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is the glass of milk to shatter in his metal hand.

Sans, in a surprising show of agility, jumps back a few feet, narrowly dodging the milk. “whoa, paps, the hell?”

“I-I don’t know what happened!” Papyrus exclaims, staring down at his milk-covered hand. “I just… squeezed the glass, and suddenly _bam_!”

“what kinda arm did alphys give you?”

Papyrus shrugs, wondering the same thing himself.

The next hour is spent with Sans, but as soon as his brother falls asleep, he rushes to his room, finally alone to really consider the new attachment. He knows from watching MTT TV how strong Mettaton is and what his limbs are capable of. Is he that powerful now too?

Perhaps it’s time for a demonstration. Standing in front of his sturdy mahogany desk, Papyrus lifts his hand, then swiftly brings it down. Metal meets wood in a startling display, flinging splinters and sexy robot action figures everywhere. When the debris clears, he finds his desk broken in two.

“I did this…?” Papyrus gapes in wonder at his hand, covered in splinters and drying milk. “I did this!” Papyrus looks again at the desk and frowns at the mess. “Ugh, I did this.”

But wowie, this prosthetic is amazing! He’s still sad about losing his arm, but maybe it won’t be that bad after all.

* * *

“Let’s goooooooooooo!” Undyne bellows, raising her spear, but then she pauses and gives Papyrus a questioning look. “Wait a second. You just had your accident yesterday. You good with this?”

Papyrus nods, practically dancing on his toes. It’s the crack of dawn, but he’s ready to show off what he can do.

Undyne shrugs, leaving her doorway and gesturing for Papyrus to take his spot. They both ready themselves, and then the sparring match begins.

The fight is nearly as bad as yesterday’s. Papyrus is uncoordinated, unaccustomed to the extra weight on his right side. Even worse, until he tries to launch a Cool Attack, he doesn’t know that his new arm channels his magic ineffectively, leading to a lackluster row of bones without even a skateboard to liven it up.

But on the upside, he learns that his prosthetic, while being super strong, is also incredibly flexible. He, of course, discovers this when he accidentally hogties himself with the darned thing, effectively ending the fight.

Undyne, after getting over her laughing fit, walks over to help. “You know, this mechanical limb of yours is sick!”

“You think so?!”

“Yeah, totally. I wish my guys in the Guard could do stuff like this, but they don’t have any imagination.” She laughs, patting Papyrus on the back. “Alright, good hustle today! You’re free to go.”

  
_Art by Ganzooky_

Papyrus bids Undyne farewell, then goes on his regular patrol. However, he can’t stop thinking about what she said. Before the accident, Papyrus wasn’t the typical image of a Royal Guard. Despite his enthusiasm and mastery of magic, what Undyne wanted was something of a different caliber. And it just… wasn’t him. He’s tried to persevere through the circumstances, but Undyne hasn’t budged.

However, now he has an advantage over other aspiring Guards! His arm could be the break he needs to finally get accepted into Undyne’s ranks!

But, what if he had more of an advantage with, say, more robotic limbs? If he could replace more of his fragile bones, maybe he could get good enough to beat Undyne. And if he could defeat Undyne, then she’d have to acknowledge Papyrus and finally let him into the Guard!

He decides to start his plan right away; what better time than the present, right? Obviously, if he hurt himself all at once it would be very fishy (as well as extremely painful!), but if he had several small ‘accidents’, then he would just look clumsy. And clumsiness is endearing!

Veering off his usual stomping grounds, Papyrus ventures deep into the forest, looking for anything he can use to stage an unfortunate accident. Eventually he’s rewarded when he spots a wild rock, unaware of its future starring role in Papyrus’s rise to glory.

“Perfect!”

The rock is about twice the size of his skull, and hefty to match, but it’s easy to pick up with his mechanical arm. He gets into a kneeling position and sets his regular old bone hand in front of him. Lifting the rock skyward, he takes a deep breath.

“We can do this, Papyrus. For our dream!”

Then, he brings the rock down hard.

Unlike the last accident, Papyrus is fully aware of what’s happening, and that’s pain. Terrible, searing, unbearable pain. He can’t bite back the scream that wrenches from him, and it’s terribly loud. Somewhere in the back of his head, Papyrus hopes that nobody can hear him, but at the forefront of his thoughts is GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY, THIS REALLY FREAKING HURTS!

Eventually, his shriek tapers off to a steady whine through tightly gritted teeth, and Papyrus finally lowers his gaze to see the damage.

Well, that was a bad idea.

It’s as if someone’s taken several eggs and smashed them where his hand used to be, except the yolk is a deep shade of red. His phalanges are broken beyond recognition, just shattered pieces of bone held together by thin lines of magic and marrow. His metacarpals aren’t much better; in fact, the only one that’s managed to make it through is the one on his pinky bone, but even that’s bent at a terrible angle more perpendicular to his wrist than anything.

As Papyrus trembles, bordering on unconsciousness, he figures maybe he should head to Alphys’s.

* * *

Looking fairly nauseated, Alphys puts the finishing touches on Papyrus’s hand. It’s not as sleek as his other prosthetic, and it has more visible joints where the fingers bend, but it’s still pretty good.

“S-so, how did this happen again?” she asks, slumping down in her seat.

Papyrus thinks back to the forest. The pain of dragging himself all the way through Snowdin, slipping over his own marrow as he traversed Waterfall, and finally collapsing in a heap at Alphys’s doorstep.

“Avalanche.”

* * *

After the townsfolk start to whisper about the strange screams from the forest the other day, Papyrus decides to outsource the scene of his next ‘mishap’. He goes to Hotland, where he probably won’t run into anyone he knows (Alphys never leaves her lab), and he finds himself in the maze of conveyor belts. He’s never liked this puzzle; it’s fairly boring actually. Where’s the finesse? The lights? The possible electrocution? It’s an abomination in his eyes, but the one upside, he thinks as he edges his right foot near the conveyor belt, is that they’re very prone to accidents.

* * *

“Oh m-m-my gosh, Papyrus, I’m so sorry!” Alphys apologizes for the umpteenth time after she puts the finishing touches on Papyrus’s new foot. “I let the m-maintenance for that puzzle linger for too long, and you g-got hurt again!”

Papyrus takes a moment to appreciate his new foot while Alphys frets. Well, it’s less of a foot and more of just a shoe, but the heel on this bad boy makes Papyrus feel… Significant. Important. Accomplished.

Tl;dr: It’s a very good look.

“Oh, don’t worry, Alphys, these things happen!”

“They seem to happen a lot to you, Papyrus,” Alphys says sadly.

Papyrus pats Alphys’s shoulder comfortingly. “Not to worry. I am the Great Papyrus and I can handle this the best I can! Which, of course, is the Ultimate Best Way to handle it, since I am The Best! Have a good day, and thank you again!”

* * *

Sometimes when planning out ways to lose limbs, a monster can forget what’s right under their metaphorical nose. In Papyrus’s case, however, it’s dangling over his head, and the only thing that’s stopping it from grinding through his leg is a singular rope.

‘It’, in this case, is a chainsaw, lovingly contributed by his Gauntlet of Deadly Terror. Yes, sometimes the simple solutions are best.

“Whoopsie daisy!” Papyrus says jokingly as he lets go of the rope, and this time he keeps his eyes open, eager to see the moment when his next prosthetic leg is guaranteed.

* * *

In his defense, he hadn’t planned on an Alphys visit today. He _had_ been walking to Undyne’s, but the soul wants what the soul wants, and that’s to shed this mortal body of his and be a cool robot guard. So he’s wandering Waterfall, sidestepping puddles with his new, ugly (but still totally awesome) heeled prosthetic leg, walking under waterfalls, and fighting his way through thick, tall grass until he finds himself at the edge of a cliff. If he squints he can see the pile of trash at the bottom.

Hmm. While the conveyor belt had replaced his foot, a whole new leg would be even cooler!

This should be the moment where Papyrus stops to think about the consequences of his actions…

Nahhh. Robot limbs are so much cooler.

* * *

This time, Alphys doesn’t offer any comment. She just explains how to use his new appendage with a skeptical stare. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to properly aim his body as he had been careening down the side of a waterfall, so his left mechanical hand had paid the price. But that’s okay because even though she hadn’t had compatible forearm parts, she has instead fitted his arm with a strange tentacle-like prosthetic.

Alphys can be mildly suspicious all she wants -- this is the coolest robot part yet!  
  


* * *

Papyrus sits on his bed, facing the broken remains of his desk. His bed is disgusting, but he hasn’t really had time to focus on cleaning the last few weeks. He hasn’t had time to focus on anything really. Not work or MTT shows or even sparring with Undyne. He can’t, not until he’s perfect and ready to be the best Royal Guard the Underground’s ever seen.

Unfortunately, he has to replace his final pathetic skeleton limb first. His right leg is so ugly and mismatched from the rest of his body!

He stares at the destroyed battle figures, hoping that they’ll give him some sort of inspiration, but no dice.

Suddenly, Papyrus bites back a wail as his right arm screams to life with pain. It’s burning, searing, but when he looks at it, there’s nothing wrong. He yanks the prosthetic from his shoulder joint, but the pain continues in the spaces where his arm doesn’t exist, like glass embedding itself into the fine nooks and crannies of his marrow.

Desperate to take his mind off the impossible pain, Papyrus makes his way to the nearest wall and headbutts it. That only intensifies the pain somehow.

To make matters worse, Sans comes into the bedroom. “i heard a crash, are you o--whoa, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know! My arm hurts so much!”

Sans flits his eyes from Papyrus to the empty space where his arm would be. “we need to go see alphys, right now.”

Heeding the grave tone in Sans’s voice, Papyrus grabs his arm and the two of them rush to Hotland. He nearly rams down Alphys’s door, and when she answers he screams instead of saying hello, which speaks a lot to his mental state right now because he is a _polite_ skeleton above everything else.

After Alphys finally gets him to sit down and explain what happened, she sighs and nods. “Phantom limb syndrome. I’m not surprised it’s, uh, happening to you, considering all your… accidents,” she says with a pointed look.

Sans looks from Papyrus to Alphys in confusion. “...what.”

Alphys gets up, motioning for Sans, and the two of them go to her... bathroom, of all places, leaving Papyrus to his own devices. The small part of him that’s still sane questions what he’s done so far. He promptly ignores it, and after one more cursory look to the bathroom door for any movement, Papyrus leaps out of his chair and runs over to Alphys’s messy work area.

It’s not long before he finds a conveniently-placed vat of a sinister-looking goo. It’s about the size of a large tub and smells terrible. Wowie, he has no idea why this is here but it sure is lucky for him! He lifts his leg over the edge of the basin to test the angle and gets a good look at the bubbly depths. Maybe it’s some sort of corrosive acid? Papyrus doesn’t think about it too much; he doesn’t have much time.

Right as he goes to lower his leg inside, Sans and Alphys choose that moment to exit the bathroom. Upon seeing him, Sans yells, “what are you _doing_?!”

Well, so much for making it seem like an accident.

“I can explain!”

“what explanation could you possibly have?!”

“Can’t you see?” Papyrus says, motioning to his skeletal leg. “My old body was brittle, fragile. But now, with my new limbs, I can be the Royal Guard the Underground needs! I can become the pride of Snowdin and protect you from humans!”

“are you kidding me?! that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard!”

“It’s too late, I have already made up my mind! Goodbye leg, hello Royal Guard--whoa!”

In his haste to lean over, Papyrus miscalculates, and instead of dipping his leg, he slips fully into the basin. It hurts like the dickens, to say the least, and he screams as he feels the goo seep into the bone, burning holes into him where it touches.

As he sinks lower into the vat, Papyrus loses consciousness.

* * *

When Papyrus awakes again, he doesn’t feel the corrosive acid licking his bones or the terrible pain or anything at all.

From his vantage point, he can see Sans and Alphys talking to each other, and he calls out to them. “ **Sans! Alphys!** ”

Strange, his voice has never sounded like that before.

Both Sans and Alphys respond and turn to him. Alphys has tears in her eyes that she dabs at, and Sans just looks pissed.

“well, you did it, papyrus,” Sans says flatly.

Joy fills Papyrus at Sans’s words. “ **Really?! What does my new leg look like? Is it cool? Do you think people will like it? Oh, I have to go see Undyne so she’ll let me into the Guard!** ”

He makes to stand up, but nothing happens. His arms won’t respond, and when he tries to look down at his body, his vision is limited like he’s wearing blinders.

**“What’s going on?”**

Alphys, who’s been staring down at her claws for most of the conversation, finally looks at him. Her lower lip trembles, but she takes a big breath to calm her nerves.

“Well, the acid c-caused, er, a lot of, um, damage to your body. In normal cases your soul wouldn’t have made it through… b-but we made a hard decision.”

She steps to the side, and Papyrus sees a mirror reflecting her, Sans, and… a box?

**“I… I don’t understand. What is that?”**

“That’s, uh, you. You’re a box, Papyrus.”

 **“What?!”** Papyrus looks at the box. It’s sleek dark metal on the outside, with a large, clear lens in the shape of a soul on the front. This… this is… him?

Wow, he really is going to be the Royal Guard’s best-looking recruit now!

  
_Art by Ganzooky_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the humor worked out well for you! Let me know if it did! Don't tell me if it didn't! Consider leaving a kudos and/or comment, I appreciate it greatly!
> 
> If you'd like to follow me on other social media, you can find me on[ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/SesuRescue), and you can find everywhere else I am on my [ carrd.](https://mezzosesu.carrd.co/)
> 
> Also, I'm going to link the zine Twitter (where you can find the zine link itself on the pinned tweet) and my collab partners, because they're awesome!
> 
> Lattices & Cracks: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Lattices_Cracks)  
> Ganzooky: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ganzooky?s=20)  
> Docajing: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/docanjing?s=20)


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